 | | Recommended | by Troublesomewhat
31.5 hours on record |
| | Posted 7.7 years ago | Last Played 4.6 years ago |
Was the first child born to a single mother who had little knowledge of the world but a great heart. She gave me and my younger brother enough love to survive our early years.
My brother lucked upon a rundown farm with ample water and rabbits nearby, inhabited only by the animals and the bones of those who once run it. We were forging by the time we were 15 but the process was slow with just the two of us. So we did the only thing one can do in that situation.
We brought 8 children born of incest into this world to work our farm so we might be able to create something special. The first 3 came at a bad time whilst we were foraging for milkweed and iron ore. They didn't see their first birthdays.
Th en came Clydesdale or Clyde for short. He would takeover the farm once he was strong enough, about 6 years of age. Soon followed the twins Mongrek and Bertie. Mongrek was a born trapper, he was asking about snaring rabbits before he could even lift a basket. Bertie was our little babe. Her responsibility was simply to grow up and pump out kids. Continue this divine legacy.
A lone woman wandered in from the wilderness. She was a quiet one and a bit of a clutz but we let her stay so long as she fed our kids. She became affectionately known as Nanny Nips. This it turned out would be a grave error.
I thought spending time working in the forge and sewing backpacks and clothes for the family would pay off when they would be able to contribute extra from the gained efficiency. This proved to be a pointless endeavour unfortunately as Nanny Nips and indeed all the kids ended up being utter morons with no survival skills whatsoever. She had taught them the nothing that she knew herself and they didn't seem to learn on their own at all either.
I don't believe a single child hit 30 despite the fact that the farm was still running fine, we had stockpiles of carrots and roast rabbit, they just forgot to eat. One by one they dropped like flies and I had already passed my glory days, no more were coming.
My brother and I continued on for another decade or so but apathy began to set in. What were we building towards? There were no children to inherit our estate. Were we to become the nameless piles of bones that greeted us on our arrival? We had enough food to last us another 50 years but weren't expecting to see 5.
We regretted never setting out to see the world. We had the means to build a great wagon to carry all our belongings but it was too late. We were too old to traverse the wilderness. We tried to make new things hoping it might give us purpose but it felt pointless. I decided I would collect stones to build me and my brother a grave. We gave each other a cautious goodbye. Wary of the fact that we might never see each other again. These would be my last words, my heart stopped before I could leave camp. A fitting end to a fateful beginning.
10 out of 10, would incest again
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